


You Can Never Go Back

by edensgay (buckybarfs)



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of Killing, Mention of torture, Other, PTSD, and comfort, and therapy, crackers do not fill the void, i mean tbh its just far cry typical, ima be real with you, lots of tws, oh boy the ptsd, staci needs love, the seeds are only kind of mentioned, this is Angst central, this is just deputy and staci, two pals snugglin for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarfs/pseuds/edensgay
Summary: Staci and Rook cross paths in the middle of the night and find the other is just as broken as they are.





	You Can Never Go Back

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was for something fluffy where Dep comforts Staci after a nightmare. I seem to have forgotten the fluff.

“You holding up okay?” Rook asks, their eyes flicking over him in worry. They knew he wasn’t the aftershocks of the nightmare clinging to his shoulders like a dark shroud.   
  
They were the only two awake in the Wolf Den, Dep sitting on the counter holding a mug of tea with both hands as they watched Staci stumble into the room. The bags under his eyes making it clear that despite his best efforts he still had yet to sleep.   
  
Maybe the tea could warm them from the inside out, spark some sense of feeling in the cold wasteland of their shell. The warmth radiating off the mug mimicking that of another person’s, briefly tricking Rook’s mind into thinking someone might care, bringing a small sense of comfort to them.  
  
Staci flinches under the scrutiny, firing back without thinking. “Are you?” There’s a bitter edge to his voice, letting them know that no, he is not okay. Though they already figured that when he came stumbling into the kitchen at three am, searching for anything to fill the void. Which ended up being wheat thins.  
  
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”  
  
He scowled at them, shoving crackers in his mouth in an obdurate show of defiance. Rook could testify that crackers did not fill the void, neither did alcohol, nothing did. They’d been trying for the past few months to fill the void, to find something that would cure them of the death that soiled their body like a disease. There was no getting over it, no magic fix all, all they could do was keep going.  
  
They had no right to judge his sleeping patterns, or his healing process, theirs just as fucked up as his. The bags under their eyes rivaling his, the skin under their nails from clawing at their own skin in an attempt to claw the evil out mirrored the skin under his. They were two broken people, trying to make it in this world, to find some sense of normalcy. Anything to help them get back into the routine of being human again.

They knew better than anyone that once you have blood on your hands you can’t ever go back, it may physically come off but every time you look down it’s there.  
  
A wolf howled outside and both of them tensed up, Rook’s hands white knuckle gripping their mug, Staci’s hand crushing the crackers in his fist while the other dented the box. They had to remind themselves that it was over, Jacob Seed was no more, they’d made sure of that.   
  
Jacob Seed. The man whose corpse Rook had delivered back to Joseph in a cage, the latest victim in their game. After seeing the way John paraded Joey on his broadcast, like he was a dog and she was his toy Rook decided to throw it right back at the cult. They’d made a game of delivering bodies, his cult VIPs returned to his doorstep, their bodies stiff with rigor mortis, paper crowns on their rotting skulls. They’d killed Faith and delivered her body to Joseph on a stretcher of Bliss flowers, ‘ _RACHEL_ ’ written on her forehead in permanent marker.  
  
This didn’t feel real, murder became second nature, body disposal a game. Yet when they closed their eyes it was real, when they were alone in the dark it was suffocating how real it all was. Their hands twitched around an imaginary gun when they heard a noise in the shower, their body tensing for a fight any time they heard a slightly raised voice.  
  
Staci was similar but broken in a different way. Rook looked into the remnants of a broken mirror and saw a shard looking back at them, quick, dangerous and glinting with blood. Staci saw a shattered image of who he once was, the glass cracking over his face so he was unable to see himself as whole ever again.   
  
Every noise made him jump, heavy footfalls had him cowering and hiding in his hands. The sight of metal bars had him pleading under his breath for forgiveness, soft prayers falling on deaf ears. Wolf howls made his legs twitch, remembering how he’d be free and used as a training dummy to teach the judges how to hunt. He could almost feel the wind on his face as he ran through the woods like a scared deer, the hellhounds hot on his heels.  
  
“Stace, my corner in the supply room is freezing,” They paused, unsure of how to proceed, “You’re like a space heater.”    
  
His face twisted into something ugly for a minute before dropping to a defeated look. “I don’t need your pity.”   
  
“Not pity, just two pals snugglin’ for warmth, come on.” They didn’t give him a choice, he needed it as much as they did. They hopped off the counter, the movement would be comically slow to anyone else, but they knew. They saw how Staci flinched away when people moved too fast, how he braced himself every time someone raised their hand.   
  
With gentle prying fingers they grabbed his arm, pulling him to the store room where they’d made their nest. It wasn’t much, a thin twin sized mattress on the floor in the corner between a wall and a shelf, covered with a pile of blankets they’d taken from empty homes. Forgotten names on the blankets hidden beneath messy layers of thread, Rook hadn’t known how to sew before this.  
  
A sheet covered the back of the shelf, another hung at the little ‘doorway’ giving them a sense of removal from the rest of the Den. It was their own little corner of hell, the metal walls keeping it freezing at all times, the tight space making them feel safe. They’d set up in the corner for a reason, it was the quietest corner of the Den, the most removed from the outside world. The sound of explosions and howls lost to them, the screams not strong enough to reach through the walls. Though they could do without the bone aching cold.  
  
They flopped into the space, tugging Staci along with them. He awkwardly fell to his knees, his body stiff as he tried to shrink in on himself and be as unobtrusive in their sanctuary as possible. They set their mug on the shelf and laid down, encouraging Pratt to do the same.

  
He made jerky moves, his limbs uncertain as he softened his grip on the box of crackers that he’d been holding safe to his chest, abandoning the dented cardboard on the shelf as he situated himself beside Rook.  
  
Impatient as ever, they tugged Staci to their chest, causing him to land on them with a soft grunt. It may have knocked the wind out of them both but they didn’t mind, the warmth of another person already soothing the ache of the chilling emptiness inside.    
  
They laid in silence for a while, their arms wrapped around their friend as they waited. They knew it was coming, they could feel his heart thumping erratically, his breathing uneven as he tried to find some sense of peace.   
  
The dam broke and the uneven breathing turned into shaking sobs as he clung to Rook like they were a lifeline, as if they were the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own self loathing. Which, at this very moment, they might be.   
  
Rook wrapped their arms tighter around Staci, ignoring the way their lungs protested from his weight on top of them. “Shhh, you’re safe.” They murmured over and over, stroking his hair in what they hoped was a comforting motion.   
  
It had been so long since they’d indulged in human emotion, it felt like years since they’d sought comfort in another person. The warmth of another body reminding them of the way it felt to go from freezing cold to warm, the tingling feeling of change heavy on their skin.  
  
“I’m broken, Rook. He fucking broke me.” His voice came out muffled as he spoke into their collar bone, they could feel wetness seeping through their shirt as he wept. “I can’t even trust my own mind anymore.”  
  
They knew the feeling all too well. The feeling of the chains weighing them down, unable to escape the confines of their own reality.   
  
“You’re okay.” They murmured, things may not be okay and it may be a long time before he felt normal again but for now he was safe in the arms of someone that loved him. They pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he slumped into them, the exhaustion of emotions draining what little he had left to give. “We’re gonna be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love feedback so much i eat it :+)


End file.
